


New Normal

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Daredevil (TV), Punisher (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheap take out, good scotch (she thinks it's good at least) and blood stains on the sofa. For Karen Page this is the new normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Normal

This is the new normal. Thai food in the fridge. Working late. Coming home to a window with a busted latch, she isn't going to bother fixing it again, and a fresh bloodstain on the couch. Scotchgaurd only goes so far. She already flipped the cushions after the last time, now she just wipes it down as best she can and does her best to ignore it. She gets home so late from the paper that she never sees her apartment in the daylight anyways. Maybe when Spring comes it will matter more, seem more real, more urgent.  
She pours herself a drink. The bottle of scotch is more empty than full and for a moment that seems like something to worry about. She didn't used to drink scotch, barely used to drink at all except for the ocassional cheap wine or after work beer at Josie's. Now she likes the taste, the smell, the buzz in the back if her skull, the burn in the back of her throat.  
She gets home late, late enough to be considered early, and Frank is there. He is eating thai food out of a styrofoam container, and drinking scotch right from the bottle. There is blood dripping from his nose, but he doesn't seem concerned, just swipes a hand across his face. It does more to smear it across his face than anything but he seems content to ignore it and focus on his food.  
Karen takes a moment, waits to feel indignant about his breaking in, stealing her food and her booze, to be mad about him bleeding on her couch again. Nothing. She puts on coffee instead. Pulls out anither container of takeout, curry this time. He makes room for her on the couch, and after a moment offers her the bottle with what would be a sheepish look on anyone else. She takes a swig, and hands him a mug of coffee, he takes his black, she knows. They sit together, and eat. They finish the coffee, and then the scotch. When she dozes off next to him, full and comfortable, he carries her to bed. Pulls off her shoes and tugs her hair loose from the stylish knot she has it tied in, and tucks her under a warm blanket. When he pulls away she holds tight to his wrist and until, with a sigh that sounds like defeat, lays down next to her, toeing off his boots. He is warm and solid next to her, and she falls back asleep with a smile. This is the new normal.


End file.
